HIS TIME IS DRAWING NEAR - WEEK #22 FOX TALES

I am not death, I despise when people call me death. There's that horrid look on their face when I show up, If only they knew my story. I'm not death, I am just its messenger, I do not choose when someone lives or die, there is no one who chooses the fate, the hands of fate have been left untouched for eons now. The human race has been left to their free will, I do not cause death but I have been cursed with knowledge of times, the time of birth and the time of death. I dwell in my room full of mirrors, only through these mirrors can I see and remember my real self, otherwise I'm just a man with a skull for a face. Once again my room of mirrors get shaken, something is about to happen, someone's soul is fading away. I'm immediately teleported to a pine forest, It's the dead of night, I guess the cold was chilling but I had no feelings on my naked bones, my grey cloak moves in the passing breeze. I walk towards a man shivering with fear and lying in the bitter cold, lost and vulnerable to the elements. I look into his blood clot eyes as he stared back at me with a mixed emotion of terror and relief. "Are you death?" he whispered, would he believe me even if I said I wasn't? He had already made up his mind, his time is drawing near.

This is my one paragraph entry into the Fox Tales short story contest, If you are interested in the contest can check here and Write a one paragraph story about the painting above. The painted artwork belongs to @vermillionfox Thanks for reading